


Don't Do Drugs Kids

by BlueberryPaincake



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Dad Jokes, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hand Jobs, Kiyo is still a smug asshole, No Sex, Parental Tojo Kirumi, Sleepy Cuddles, Vaginal Fingering, again yes, but there is, uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueberryPaincake/pseuds/BlueberryPaincake
Summary: Kokichi just knows Kirumi and Kiyo have feelings for each other and it's driving him crazy watching them tip toe around each other. Luckily (unluckily for them) he has the perfect solution!Based off a short story written by Lost_Galaxies
Relationships: Shinguji Korekiyo/Tojo Kirumi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	Don't Do Drugs Kids

It was a day unlike most that began as Kiyo’s usually did. 

Walking down the white and clean school halls of Hope's Peak Academy, steps as silent as ever, he has a meeting with a certain maid before the day starts. Before he can quite grasp the door handle swings open and a small cackling gremlin shoulders past him. Deftly, Kiyo grabs the boy by his collar. “Kokichi.” He speaks in a low tone, already suspicious of the ultimate leader.

“Daddy!” The title makes the anthropologist drop him reflexively. He scuttles away down the hall, cheeky grin contrasting Kiyo’s disgusted expression.

He is seated in the back of the home economics room at a small table, enjoying a warm cup of tea. After taking a sip he sets the tea cup down onto his saucer, it’s a bit more bitter than usual, and looks over at his companion. Kirumi Tojo, the Ultimate Maid, who is carefully sipping from her own drink, but stops when she feels his gaze.

“Yes, Shinguuji?” Her ceramic cup clinks as it is gently set into its home. She presses her lips together, furrowing her brows for a split second.

“I’m quite interested to know what sort of mischief will occur in class today, are you not?” At this her eyes lower, a moment of dread quickly covered up with her usual serene expression. He always finds her microexpressions interesting to pick up on and dissect, considering how much she prides herself as a neutral party in the chaos of the class. Her attempts to mask her emotions are adorably pitiful, beautiful and tragic in their own ways. Of course he would never share such thoughts, considering mentioning that he finds her endearing enough to refer to her as such (ignoring the blow to her pride) would most likely be seen as an over reach regarding their boundaries. Though, he often pushes the envelope when it comes to those, enjoying the way she reacts to his indirect advances.

“I always believe I’m prepared, yet everyday I manage to find myself surprised. I’m interested in learning from today’s events.” A graceful rebound indeed. As she speaks her hand moves up to tuck back a few wisps of silvery hair, momentarily distracting him from her response. Her body is similar to his in build, being long and slender, yet he still manages to be captivated by the elegant motions of her hands and poised movements of her limbs. He taps his finger against the wood of the table, the light tick muffled by the soft material of his bandages.

“Ah, I do believe Kokichi ran into me earlier today. What did he want?” It’s customary that only the two of them share these mornings together, though on occasion other classmates, ones of more refined tastes, will join. The ultimate leader is not one of them.

“He requested a specific dish for lunch today. A western comfort food. Perhaps you’ve heard of it, ah, grilled cheese and tomato soup.” Kiyo takes another sip of his drink.

“Yes that’s very popular, though I can’t say I’ve had it, nor is it very healthy.” The “sandwich” is preferred by children but paired with the soup it’s often consumed on rainy days by people of all ages. He takes a moment to tug at his collar, suddenly feeling a bit warm. “I suppose if he is in my care I shall prepare it once, as a treat.” Her voice is quiet as she speaks

“My what a good mother you are... kehehe.” The maid shoots him a stern glare at the offending title. He chuckles at her attempts to distance herself from the group. Try as she might, humans are social creatures, and whether she likes it or not she’s asserted herself as the matriarch of the class.

“Not you as well. I’ve made it explicitly clear how I feel about that title, Shinguji.” He shrugs and leans back in his seat, crossing his legs and taking another sip from his near empty cup. The spectacle earns an arch of her brow, her gaze unimpressed and subtly vexed by his antics. 

“Ah, I couldn’t help it. Hearing it so often has ingrained it into my mind. Though, for someone so insistent on not being referred to as a mother, you’re very persistent in caring for the students of our class. Would you not agree it’s a bit counterintuitive on your part, Miss Tojo?” Kiyo says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, dangling the teacup from his finger with a smug grin he knows she senses. Her cheeks color just slightly as she looks away, indignant at the nerve he displays.

“I’m merely doing my duty to the class as the Ultimate Maid. I'd appreciate it if you refrained from insinuating I keep from focusing on my craft over such trivial things.” He sets down his cup on the tablecloth, garnering her attention if not for his words then for his blatant ignoring of proper table etiquette. 

“Oh? If said title is so trivial, then why do you make such a scene over it? Please enlighten me, I do so love to learn about individuals, such as yourself, that capture my attention.” Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second, her mouth opens and she seems about to tell him off, though he doubts he’d be intimidated by her words when her cheeks are splotched bright red. Instead she reaches out, grabs his cup, returns it to its proper place, and refills his drink.

“Anyway,” she clears her throat, not looking at him again in order to calm the flush of her cheeks, which are no doubt warm to the touch. He considers reaching out to do just that, but such an action would be far too invasive on his part. Getting her to drop her barriers and accept him is a trying experience, but one he enjoys, considering his affinity for her... presence. Something others in their class have taken to very vocally noting, though they do the same to her if she so much as speaks to him. “That was the last of the tea.” She speaks shortly, resting her hands in her lap, though he detects a small sheen of sweat over her cheeks. Perhaps he isn’t the only one feeling uncomfortably warm. It could simply be the economics room….

“Just in time, no? Class will begin soon.” He says. The two finish quickly, the tea itself having cooled to an acceptable temperature to be sipped rapidly. Kirumi gets up to clean and wash their dishes, gathering them into her arms. Kiyo stops her with a hand over her own when she reaches for his cup.

“I have a small request for you, Tojo.” She looks to him expectantly, ready to complete his task. “I ask that you reflect on why the title truly bothers you. View such a task as a learning experience, if you would. I understand if you don’t want to share, but I’d like to know what you find tomorrow morning.” He removes his hand and she hesitates, looking at him befuddled and a bit taken aback. 

After a moment she delicately picks up the cup. “If you insist, I cannot refuse your request Shinguji.” With a nod her back is to him, her hands busy quickly washing the dishes with scalding hot water. 

“Thank you for your time, Tojo.”

…

By the time Kirumi gets to class her body is burning up and she briefly wonders if she’s running a fever. She felt fine when she woke up… perhaps it’s simply all of her clothes. Gripping her bunched skirts in her chair, the Ultimate Maid tries to hide the rising flush of her face. They are only two hours into their day, with the rest of the class loudly engaging in whatever sort of activity Kuma-sensei is setting up for them, but she’s beginning to doubt the effectiveness of waiting it out. 

Watching the teacher begin to write something down only results in her vision blurring as her mind goes into a haze and her head drops to her desk. “Tojo? Are you feeling alright?” Kaede’s hand shakes her shoulder and Kirumi nearly _whines_ at how uncomfortably warm it is. Instead she groans just a bit, trying to keep from interrupting the class.

“I’m fine.” Is all she murmurs, wanting to go to sleep but also feeling deeply uncomfortable, like pins and needles are pricking at the skin of her limbs. 

“Hey Kiyo, you’re not looking too good...” Rantaro’s voice sounds in her ear. At this she raises her head and turns to see Kiyo who had taken off his hat. Her flush, once due to an assumed illness, increases twofold. 

“I’m… alright.” He mutters, resting his head in hand after pulling his hair back. “It’s excessively warm today…” Kiyo turns to look at her, unprompted, and his gaze locks onto her own. At once he stands, shaking the desk with a loud scrape.

“Can I help you, Shinguji?” Kuma-sensei, looking thoroughly peeved, sets down his already half finished mug of coffee labeled “student’s tears.” 

A mischievous giggle sounds throughout the room. All eyes shift to the Ultimate Supreme Leader. Kokichi wears a dark smile. “Did you two like the tea?” 

Kirumi glares at him, but Kiyo beats her to the punch. “ _What_ did you do?” He speaks sharply, gripping the back of his chair tightly, though she can’t tell if it's out of anger or because he too feels at once about to fall over and ready to pounce on someone. She blushes as she grasps her hands together, trying not to think of just how much she wants to be held by him instead.

A loud cackle comes from the other end of the room. Miu is laughing hysterically, smacking Kiibo on the back. At this Kirumi rises, albeit somewhat shakily. “Iruma? May I ask why you are laughing?” Seeing as both students responsible for the majority of their class’s chaos are howling in laughter, this can _not_ be good.

“Yeah man, I’m just not really seeing what’s so funny…” Kaito’s eyebrows furrow. 

Poor Kiibo jolts as Miu leans onto him, slowly coming down from her hysterics. “Get a load of this shit! This is gonna be fuckin’ hilarious, just wait and see, dickweeds!” She wipes at tears in her eyes, continuing to guffaw at the spectacle. 

“Ouma, tell us what you did.” Kirumi’s voice wobbles as she speaks. Kiyo’s head whips back to her and he moves to step closer but Rantaro grabs him by the arm. “Hey now, just wait a minute, Kiyo.” He says, trying to placate the anthropologist, whose eyes are searing into her. 

Kokichi rudely blows a raspberry at her. “I don’t wanna! You’ll just get madddd!”

“You'll explain here or you’ll explain in the principal’s office. Your pick, gremlin.” Kuma-sensei crosses his arms, unwilling to put up with whatever shenanigans are going on so early in the morning. 

Kokichi sighs, rolling his head back and leaning his chair onto its hind legs carelessly. “Fineeee, I guess I’ll tell you guys. The bitchlet did something useful for once and found some reaalllly interesting drugs in the pharmaceutical lab, something labeled ‘Afro-daisy-act!’ We thought it’d be a great way to get mom and dad to spend more time with each other!”

Kirumi, only vaguely familiar with the name of such a drug, grabs onto her head. However Kiyo, seemingly far more aware of its effects, immediately moves toward her, arm outstretched. Rantaro grabs his shoulders and speaks cooly. “No no no, Kiyo, you need to stay here. I’m not going to let you do anything you’ll regret.” 

Tenko jumps up, rushing to Kirumi who unsteadily wobbles toward Kiyo, wanting so badly to be in his arms, hold him close, just _be_ with him. Taking Kirumi’s arms, Tenko pulls her close. “Oh no! I’m not letting any degenerate male near Kirumi at a time like this! Lay one hand on her and I’ll end you and your bloodline!” Astonishingly, Kirumi _actually_ whines, pulling her hands from Tenko, disliking how suffocating the grip on her arms is. 

At that sound, Kiyo all but shoves Rantaro away to get to her, the action pushing the blush to her ears and making her try to squirm out of Tenko’s grip. “But Rantaro…” Kiyo pleads, the flush on his face not hidden by his mask. “Kirumi needs me as much as I need her. If not her,” his voice grows husky and Rantaro actively leans away from the bandaged hand that reaches up to caress his cheek, “Then would you help me? Don’t you remember that night we spent camping together on Mt. Fuji? Perhaps we can finish-.”

Grimacing, Rantaro immediately releases his grip on Kiyo, who easily slides past him, and steps back, holding his arms up in surrender. “Kuma-sensei, I think it’s best that you step in now. I don’t think we can stop them.” The sounds of Kokichi, who is still laughing his lungs out, barely register in Kirumi’s ears as she wriggles out of Tenko’s grasp, which has slackened in her disgust upon hearing the anthropologist’s words. She rushes to meet Kiyo, side stepping Kaede’s attempts to stop her. 

The two meet in the middle, Kiyo taking her face in his hands, thumb slowly ghosting over her features and resting at her lips. “You…” He whispers, and she holds his wrists, leaning into his touch. “Me.” She responds, entranced. Even though it burns, being consumed by such a warm unending flame sounds like the perfect way to go. The anthropologist sits on the nearest desk, pulling her to his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck, pressing closer to him, uncaring about the Ultimate Maid being seen in such a compromising state. No, no, _Kirumi_ wants to be with him. 

“No. Fuckin’. Way. I can’t believe Shitguji AND Kirumilf might ACTUALLY try and fuck like horny rabbits. In the classroom of all places! Hide the children and hide your eyes folks, it’s about to fuckin’ go DOWN!” Miu’s voice echoes like an announcer in Kirumi’s ears, but she ignores it and buries her face in Kiyo’s neck. He rests his hands on her hips, melting into her. “Kirumi, I-.” 

“Nope! This is not happening here. I don’t get paid enough for this.” Kirumi yelps as she’s lifted up and away from Kiyo. “You two are _not_ staying here.” Kuma-sensei slings her over his shoulder, downs the last of his coffee, and turns away from Kiyo. Said man jumps from the desk, following behind the two and reaching for her. 

“Kuma-sensei!” She shouts in dismay, clasping Kiyo’s hand with her own. 

“When I get back the two of you better still be here, or I’ll make things even worse than they’re already going to be for you.” Their teacher warns ominously, most likely threatening the two that caused this mess. With that, he strides out of the classroom, Kirumi in tow and Kiyo following doggedly. 

“Of all the people…” Kuma-sensei mutters to himself, his grip on the back of her knees loose as they go through the halls. Kirumi wants to squirm out of it because his hands are uncomfortably warm in a way that makes her want to escape, like when the others before him touched her, but then she’d fall, which doesn’t seem like the best idea. “I’m gonna have their damn asses later….” Kuma-sensei is still muttering to himself as he comes to a halt. Kirumi can’t see where they’re at, but it’s in the middle of a deserted and silent hallway.

“Shinguji, stay here.” The Ultimate Anthropologist’s eyes widen.

“But-!” 

“We’ll be back, don’t get your panties in a twist, but I’m not walking in on you two fooling around.” Kirumi is unceremoniously set on the floor heavily, pain shooting up to her knees. She nearly ignores what Kuma-sensei says, taking a step towards Kiyo, but the teacher steps in front of her. 

“Come with me Tojo, I can’t leave you two alone just yet.” She pouts and shoots Kiyo, who is gripping his arms tightly, a longing look but obediently follows her teacher to the nurse’s office. Shuffling behind him, she can’t help but think she wants her gloves off, feeling like her hands are cooking inside the leather, but doesn’t want to remove them, not in such a public place. “One minute.”

He pops in and pops back out in a few minutes, looking disgruntled. “Here.” Kuma-sensei hands her a small box. Kirumi peeks at the label and blushes up to her roots. “How-.” 

“-We’re not talking about this.” He cuts her off. The maid wipes the sweat steadily beading on her brow, but complies. “Ugh, now I owe that pink brat….” 

The two return and she moves to Kiyo, who takes her by the shoulders and leans over her, clasping his arms in front of her chest and pressing a wall of warmth against her back. Kirumi sighs, melting into his body, which is just the right temperature. Kuma-sensei fiddles with his key ring, testing multiple ones. “Sheesh, all of these look the damn same.” Muttering to himself, he jams the proper key into place and unlocks the classroom. 

The door swings open to reveal a rather normal looking classroom, desks in rows, windows along the wall, but there are inviting looking bean bags in the corner, something their own classroom lacks. It’s not in use at the moment, as the blinds are all pulled down to keep sunlight from drifting in. Kiyo’s hands find hers, but he pulls back in surprise when he grasps the box she tried to hide in her skirts. 

“You grabbed these?” He asks, breath caressing her ear. She shivers and feels him chuckle, bringing an arm up to trace the skin of her neck.

Kuma sensei scoffs. “Don’t think I’m letting you ruin the carpet. Just try and be quiet. I’ll be back at the end of the school day. You two better be fully clothed, you hear me? Or so help my paycheck...” The pair nods and he ushers them inside, his voice floating away into the hallway, and the door lock clicks into place behind them. 

Without saying a word, the two rush over to the bean bags, throwing themselves into them removing their blazers. Kiyo instantly pulls her against his chest and tangles her legs with his own. The box falls to the floor, forgotten as Kirumi wraps her arms around him. She begins to peel off her gloves, aching heat engulfing her body now that they can finally embrace one another. Still, the gloves need to go, as long as they are alone.

He grabs her wrist, stopping her movements. “Would you allow me to…?” She pauses. Her gloves, given to her as a sign of her prowess, a sign of her status, are something she holds dear. Even if she had been about to remove them, Kirumi hesitates. His words from earlier itch at the back of her head, but she pushes them away and nods, allowing him to do so. Kiyo’s fingers gently tug at the leather and pull it off of her hand, exposing her sweaty skin to the air. While doing the same to her other hand he takes her warm palm in his bandaged fingers and dries them, the cloth absorbing the slick of her hands. 

Once finished he sets them down gently next to the chair, recognizing how important they are to her. Likewise, she takes one of his hands. “May I?” He hesitates as well, before his other hand moves down to cup her cheek and he gives her a silent nod.

Ever attentive, Kirumi traces her fingers over the soft material, searching until she reaches the tucked end required to unravel it. The fabric comes undone loosely and she slowly rolls up the bandages, following down the smooth delicate skin of his forearms until she finishes the first. After the second time she hands him the wraps.

Gently they lace their fingers together, a shared flame sprouting from their touch. It doesn’t make her want to shy away, but lean in.“Our shoes?” He whispers into her hair. She shakes her head, not wanting to break their link. His hand moves up to bury itself into her hair, threading his fingers through the strands. “It won’t be comfortable with your shoes on.”

A burning blush and she releases him to cover her face. He kneels on the floor, carefully undoing the ribbons of her heels. Kirumi has forgotten what they came for, the fire in her stomach burning brighter with the reminder. Being so wrapped up, literally, in just… Kiyo has rendered her breathless.

She peeks at him through her fingers and is captivated by just how _beautiful_ he is. In the dim lighting of the room his hair is still glossy, messily pulled back into a ponytail, thin individual strands glinting under the soft stream of sunlight peeking from under the blinds. Her eyes move lower, watching his own. His pupils are blown wide under the effects of the drug but focused solely on undoing the complicated bows of her shoes with an amount of grace she can barely comprehend. Tracing the sharp line of his brow down his nose, only then does she realize he has slipped off his mask, heavy breathing most likely uncomfortable in such restrictive cloth. His lips, so often hidden from others but shared with her in this moment, are painted red with lipstick. To some this may seem odd, but to Kirumi it is exactly as it should be because it's him.

By the time she is done gazing at the breathtaking features of his face he’s moved back up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nudging his nose against her own. “Kiyo….” She murmurs, wanting to burn with him and only him. 

“Kirumi….” He whispers, tracing his nose down her cheeks, his eyelashes fluttering against her skin in soft butterfly kisses. Once he reaches her throat he presses his lips to her skin, burning kisses into her flesh. Involuntarily, she whimpers at the contact, her hands wrapping behind his neck shakily.

After taking a moment, she tries to pull him away, her fingers buried and tangled around his ever loosening ponytail. “W-wait, I want to….” She trails off, unsure of how to voice what she wants. Kiyo looks up, a bead of sweat trailing down the side of his face. Instead of finishing she pushes back a few sweaty strands of hair from his face.

Not wanting to take and give nothing in return, but also being extremely inexperienced, Kirumi presses a kiss to the salty skin of his forehead, marking him with a searing kiss. Kiyo goes back to her throat and this time, when the soft flesh of his lips presses to her, his teeth bite at her skin. Kirumi gasps, stammering as he begins to start another. “All bark no bite, hmm…” He murmurs smugly at her shy demeanor.

She grabs him by the collar, pulls him up, her nerves steeled by pride, and buries her face into his neck, holding him close. His chest rumbles as he chuckles and she realizes she didn’t quite have a plan. No matter, her lips press against his jaw, imitating the way he’d moved before. He sighs above her, giving her the confidence to nip at his skin, earning a slightly muffled groan from him. “Now look who’s barking.” She smirks.

All at once her back is pressed against the bean bag. Her eyes widen as she looks up at him, arms pinned next to her head. Electricity crackles through her from his touch. “Say that again? I didn’t quite catch it.” Kiyo purrs, releasing one arm to pinch her chin. Her cheeks flush and eyes look to the left, a pout tracing her lips.

Hand straying from her chin, it traces the skin of her neck and trails down to halt above her left breast. “You’ll find I’m fully capable of delivering what I promise, dear.” A whimper leaves her involuntarily. Suddenly remembering the box, she reaches over the side of the bean bag to grab it. 

Kiyo stops her. “We won’t be using those.” 

“No?” He shakes his head, and the implied meaning isn’t lost on her. 

“It’s your first time, it won’t be under the influence.” Kirumi reaches up and caresses his face, his cheeks matching her own in flush for once. He never blushes, not when he was fighting to get to her, not when they first got to hold each other, and not even when they got their first few moments alone. His face has been red from the sweltering heat that washed over them, but this is the first time the color of his cheeks darkens beyond the light dusting of rouge he’d been sporting.

“Thank you.” Despite her having the final say, she hadn’t thought ahead because her head was filled with a hazy warmth. He grins down at her, a hungry glint in his eyes starting the fire beneath her skin again.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

…

Kiyo gazes down at Kirumi, her pale skin slick with sweat and eyes glittering with desire. At his words her lower lip slips between her teeth and she gazes up at him through her lashes. Was she even aware of how much she was tempting him?

Scarred fingers working over the buttons of her top, he only partially opens it, uninterested in taking the time to fully undo her shirt. Carefully, so as not to startle her, he slips his hand under the soft fabric of her bra and cups her breast. There’s a sharp intake of breath and she turns away the smallest bit.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, Kirumi. Say the word and I’ll stop.” Her eyes, which were squeezed shut previously, relax. She nods. Slightly smaller hand resting on his own, she whispers. “Continue, just go slowly.”

Kiyo leans down, places a kiss above her collarbone, and slightly moves his fingers. Her reaction this time is a slight sigh, tense muscles beginning to relax as she grows used to his touch. Of all the people he has been with, Kirumi is the only one to captivate him so. Others before her were to study, were solely his partners for the sake of learning and satiating their needs. Undoubtedly, the two are in this situation purely because of the drug they'd ingested, but he wants her to understand that hopefully, at a later date, she’ll get to be with a partner because they share an intimate connection and that sex can be about sensual as well as a physical experience.

He won’t deny that he hopes to one day enjoy his time with her in a more personal way. His fingers find her nipple, garnering a soft moan from her. Slowly massaging the skin of her breast, Kiyo supposes for now getting to see her so vulnerable is in itself a present. Not to mention he also has a bit of a problem that is steadily becoming more present in his trousers.

With his other hand he palms himself through the stiff uniform pants, attempting to bring some relief to himself as he takes care of his partner. A pinch of his fingers earns an arch in her back as she nearly mewls beneath him. Smirk growing, he muses to himself that he is most likely the only person who has heard such an undignified noise leave the “Ultimate Maid’s” lips.

And such enticing lips they are. The anthropologist has half the mind to steal a kiss while she won’t respond with anger, which in fairness would be rightfully earned in any other situation. Alas, he groans a bit as her hands tug at his hair, a rather pleasing sensation in itself, he will do no such thing. Kirumi lets out a displeased huff, lips contorting into a pout when he slips his hand from her heated skin. “A bit greedy, aren’t we?” 

Though he teases he still moves to her other breast, aware of the flush creeping down her neck. In response, her eyes widen. “I… I apologize, let me help.” Hand leaving his hair, she reaches for his belt. _Interesting_... he’d expected a bit more of a fight from her given his prior observations, perhaps she’s more nervous considering her inexperience. Or... perhaps she’s reverting back to her maid tendencies, eager to serve. 

“That, my dear, can wait.” Kiyo pinches her nipple as if to punctuate his statement, earning a small jolt from her. “First- ah!” He groans when she pulls him to her chest, her free hand slipping down to press into his crotch and clumsily undo his pants button. Deciding to let her misconduct slip, just this once, he smiles slyly and takes a moment to bite into the soft skin of her chest in retaliation. Yelping, Kirumi’s grip tightens on his hair as though reprimanding him. _Oh, how cute_.

Porcelain skin tasting of lavender, roses, and sweat fills his palette. She slides down the zipper of his pants, giving him a bit more relief from the confines of his clothes. Though he’d like to remain where he is, decorating her chest with dark red splotches and indents from roughly biting into her, he decides against it.

“That’s enough.” From his pocket appears a small length of straw rope, scratchy and stiff in his sticky palm-- just enough to bind her wrists.

Quick as a flash, the anthropologist deftly grabs her hands and pulls them up behind her head, linking them together to keep her from interrupting him again. _Perfect, simply gorgeous._ Her eyes bore into him, but only for a split second as she clenches her legs when he slips his hand under her skirt. 

At this he pauses. Regardless of his forward actions before his brows furrow at her troubled and uneasy expression. “Too fast?” His whisper hangs in the air, almost inaudible under their heavy breathing. Green eyes raise to meet golden ones.

“A warning would be nice.” She speaks with a half-smile, a bit more comfortable with him. Kiyo nods, returning her look with a kiss on her cheek, just below her eye. At that she blushes and his hands momentarily freeze at the hem of her stockings. Ah, he’s gotten carried away with himself… ascribing more feelings to this than he’d like to admit.

Delicately gripping the thin gauzy fabric of stockings, he pulls them down from under her, trailing over the smooth contours of her lithe legs until he reaches her feet. Kiyo carelessly drops them to the side and traces his fingertips over the smooth skin of her thighs. 

Bound arms encircle around his head, nestling scratchy rope against the back of his neck. Kiyo grins and slips his hand back under her skirt. Damp, warm, sweaty fabric rests under the pads of his fingers. He doesn’t pause to think about how his undergarments match that same level of warmth and discomfort. Kirumi’s body trembles beneath his. 

Sweltering heat smolders from her core, scorching against his exposed sensitive grip. “This can’t be comfortable. Allow me.” He hooks a finger around her underwear and slowly pulls it down her legs. 

His heart pounds against his chest, blood rushing through his veins as he gazes down at her through lidded eyes. Her fingers are again tangled in his hair, tugging and twisting locks between her fingers to the point that his hair tie snaps. Anticipation swirls in eyes that hazily bore into his own. If he wasn’t hard before, he most certainly is now with such a mesmerizing being resting in his arms.

Fingers gently pressing against her entrance, which is damp and sticky with slick that has already begun leaking from her, he watches her gasp and curl up the slightest bit. Heat radiates from her as he carefully pulls back her lips with his fingers, prodding her with his other. Her brows draw down in annoyance and she pulls at him, flexing her wrists impatiently.

He leans down and nips at the skin of her thigh as punishment. Arch defining the curve of her spine as she pulls him forward, Kirumi’s legs jerk in response. “So disobedient. If you keep this up then I suppose I should consider more… effective ways of keeping you from intervening, Kirumi.” His hand is still pressed flat against her skin, but he begins moving it away as he threatens her. Her legs clench to keep him from moving. 

“... You’re despicable.” She says, her voice breathy and low, opposing in nature to her intent. Ignoring her glare, he chuckles at how, despite her steely words, her grip on his hand loosens once he pinches her thigh as a sign of warning. 

“No, I’m Kiyo.” Kirumi yanks at her restraints, jerking his head forward. He winces but revels in the mild anger coloring her expression.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Hissing, she yanks at his hair, temper flaring. Such an unorthodox response from the maid: unveiled, exposed anger and biting curses he didn’t think she’d ever uttered before; fills his expression with a smug arrogance, mirth twinkling in his eyes. This drug appears to bring out more than one beautiful side of the maid he’s desired to see.

“No, I’m fucking _you_.” Before she can kick him, he takes advantage of her lowered guard and pinches her clitoris. 

“AH!” Kirumi curls up, her body shaking as he rubs at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Ignoring how tightly her thighs clamp onto his hand, he focuses on the string of low moans and broken curses that sound through the room like a melody. The jerking of her legs pulls at his pants and he lets out a stifled moan.

“Must you test me?” Kiyo groans, taking a moment to grab her thigh in an attempt to reduce her movement. Simultaneously, he buys himself a few moments to catch his breath, before attempting to push down the top of his pants and get just a _bit_ more room so he may finish with her. Kirumi is still busy trying to calm down from his touch, unable to hear him. 

Ordinarily this level of sensitivity at the start of their encounter would be considered strange, but, he huffs to himself when he finally gets the top of his pants low enough to offer him some breathing room, this “afro-daisy-act” is proving to have made them extremely sensitive. Still that small bit of breathing room isn’t enough, the fabric of his underwear feeling restrictive, humid, and irritating in it’s own right now that it’s exposed to the air. Tempted to just remove it, he glances up at Kirumi who’s movements have stilled but body remains tense like a coiled spring, ready to jump at any moment. 

Kiyo decides to play with her for a bit longer. His still trapped hand moves against her clit in small strokes in order to keep her from jumping again while coaxing her into easing her grip on his hand. His free hand parts her thighs allowing him to swipe his fingers along her slit.

“Like a flower in bloom.” He says it without thinking. Pausing, Kirumi looks up at him in confusion for a mere two seconds before she gasps as he sinks a finger into her down to his third knuckle without warning, her slickness letting it slip in easily. Her mouth falls open and the grip on his hair tightens in a nice bit of pain and pleasure. Heat pulses around his finger, making him feel as though he’s stuck his hand against a flat iron. 

Slowly pumping his hand, he watches her legs pull back as her pleasure grows and her eyes flutter completely shut. His fingers continue toying with her clit as he eases a second finger into her. Her voice, which had been lower even when moaning, raises in pitch, echoing in the deserted room.

“Ah- wait!” Kirumi’s arms tremble as she comes undone in his arms bit by bit as he spreads his fingers apart, stretching her for his third one. Watching her, the Ultimate Maid, the pinnacle of grace and reserved temperance, the person he finds so intriguing and desires more than anything, writhe and whine beneath him, takes his breath away. Humans are so intriguing to see in this state, completely vulnerable, without barriers and their defense mechanisms. Kirumi is no different with the repressed emotions of before bubbling up as curses and cries, tears peeking through lashes-- all of her is bared for him to see. Indeed, what he finds mesmerizes him.

Her silvery blonde hair is unkempt and mussed against the fabric supporting her, lips raw from biting them. Eyes screwed shut, sweat beads along her brow and over her heated skin. Bite marks and hickeys litter the skin of her chest that peaks from her partially unbuttoned shirt, contrasting the smooth unmarred skin of her legs and thighs.

A third finger. Sweat dripping down her collar and neck, Kirumi begins to coil again, the first part of her to tense being her grip around his fingers. He curls his fingers up and her body follows the action. Just a bit more. His finger pinches her clit sharply and Kirumi pulls him to her chest, hiding her face in his shoulder as she cries out. “Kiyo!”

…

Kirumi comes down from her high, still clutching onto Kiyo who carefully eases her out of her climax with steady rocking motions of his hand until she relaxes fully in his arms. Bit by bit her body begins to cool off from the aching heat that had enveloped her for the past while. Feelings of embarrassment can come later, for now she exhaustedly holds him against her. His hands slip out from between her legs and rest against her thighs. 

“Alright my dear,” She’s too spent to mention that he’s never called her such a pet name before. He lifts her still tied arms, which have gone limp but still hang around his neck, over his head and rest them against her chest. Feeling as though her head is filled with helium, she watches as he rests next to her in the chair. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be … attending to myself now... kehehe.” 

Eyes widening, she’s pulled abruptly out of her afterglow and sits up. “Wait,” Kiyo looks at her, expression full of dismay. “Allow me to help you, if you wouldn’t mind.” It appears he hadn’t expected her to offer such a thing, as his hand, which had been resting on the band of his underwear, goes limp. She clears her throat, attempting to make it sound less hoarse from her… outbursts. “As you’ve been so kind to help me, it’s only fair I do the same for you.” 

He regards her with disbelief before an exasperated smile rests upon his lips. “If you insist.” Kirumi seats herself in front of him, prepared to at least attempt to help him the way he’s done for herself. It’s only when she lifts her hands that she remembers the rope that still binds her wrists. In her haste it’d slipped her mind. The skin underneath it is red, irritated and raw from how harshly she’d yanked at it. Briefly, she wonders if his neck will suffer from her actions.

“Ahem.” Kirumi lifts her arms up expectantly, gesturing for him to undo the complicated knots. A dark chuckle leaves him as he brings his hand to his mouth. “I trust that a clever individual such as yourself, can complete this task without needing to remove my handiwork.” Her face flushes at his shameless smug attitude, irritation making her want to abandon helping him then and there.

But then she wouldn’t be a woman of her word. Maid or not, Kirumi is not someone petty enough to leave others after she makes a promise. She reaches up to the band of his underwear, snapping the elastic and smirking at his groan in reaction. Still, she _is_ petty enough to tease him about his rudeness.

Peeling off the damp and sweaty material, the maid suddenly realizes that she’d see ‘him’ and her flush grows when it springs up, now freed from it’s constraints. Her eyes flicker to his face, which has increased in color while his eyes sear into her. Right, for once she’s the one lacking experience here. 

Hands raising up to touch him, she hesitantly grabs it by the shaft. His jaw clenches and narrow eyes squeeze shut as he hisses through his teeth. “Did that hurt?” She rushes to check with him. Kiyo shakes his head, fingers digging into the soft material of the bean bag. “Continue.” He commands.

Kirumi ignores him and takes a moment to trail a finger up to the tip, trying to ignore the odd feeling under her fingertips. A slight musky scent permeates through the air as she begins to move her hands up and down, hesitantly at first but spurred on by his approving low moans. 

Kiyo’s legs twitch in recognition of her actions and his hands shoot out to grab her own. For a second she freezes, worried she’d done something wrong, but he simply rests them on her hands, encouraging her to keep moving. Shaking off his hands, which move to nestle within her own soft locks, she continues on. 

She pinches the head, noting a strange wetness on her fingers. Oh, that. Well, it’s a good sign she’s doing her job well or that at least the drugs are doing their job. Tightening her grip experimentally a bit results in him grunting and tightening his grip on her hair. Wincing a bit before biting her lip, she moves faster.

Kiyo’s moans grow more frequent, still low and hoarse, but increase as her pace does. “Kirumi!” He says, face pinched as he tries desperately to maintain control, or perhaps give into his feelings. The anthropologist has never been one to hide his more passionate, to put it bluntly ‘horny’, as Iruma would say, tendencies and feelings. It didn’t surprise Kirumi when he demonstrated that he knows about and has had experience with sex, nor does it truly bother her. On occasion when such matters have surfaced she’s remained silent about it, mainly as it merely registers to her as a part of his personality that, while mildly off-putting from time to time, is generally harmless. However, to an extent, it makes her rather self conscious about being less experienced in this area of expertise.

Her nails gently graze along his shaft and earn a small spasm of his body. At this she relaxes. Considering at this point that even with lackluster care he’d most likely enjoy himself simply due to having aphrodisiacs in his system, Kirumi can breathe easy. She hadn’t even realized her pace grew slower with long drawn out strokes until he chokes out the word “Faster!” 

She obliges, deciding to do her best, even if it doesn’t really matter. A rhythm is set after a bit, with her speeding up the pace to the point where his voice grows in volume just the smallest bit and then slowing down. With her limited movement she occasionally digs her thumb into the tip, his grip on her hair growing tighter and tighter the longer she teases him. 

After one particularly hard dig his hands grab her face, squishing her cheeks between sweaty palms. “Kirumi! Please!”

Her lip curls up and she picks up the pace, earning a groan from him. Kiyo’s hands return to her hair, desperation tightening his grip. His face is deep red, one she hadn’t thought she’d ever see from him. Seeing him so undone earns a smile from her, knowing she’s successfully attending to his needs.

Abruptly one of his hands pulls her own away while the other covers himself as he climaxes, falling back against the support of the bean bag as a thick warm fluid drips from his fingers. She blushes and turns away, feeling somewhat invasive for staring. 

Standing on shaky legs she goes to the box of tissues sitting on the teachers desk and grabs them along with the wastebasket, promising to come and refill them later. “Shinguji?”

He’s laid out against the bean bag, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other still hiding himself. His arm drops and he lifts his head wearily, flush steadily lessening. “Oh, thank you Kirumi.” At the usage of her first name her cheeks begin to burn and she wonders just how often one can do that in a day before it becomes the permanent color of their face. “No need to be so formal my dear, considering how close we’ve grown today… kehehe.”

Averting her gaze as he cleans himself up, she shakes her head. “I apologize greatly for my shortcomings and unprofessionalism today.” The bag in the trash can rustles as she berates herself internally, the weight of what they’ve just done and- her eyes widen in mortification. She acted like _that_ in front of her classmates. It’d completely slipped her mind.

As these thoughts hit her like a truck the rustles behind her continue. Her hand nearly flies up to her mouth, she stops herself for sanitary reasons. Fuck. Korekiyo Shinguji was the last and only person she wanted to do _that_ with. How could she save her pride? The bruises to her ego hurt almost as badly as knowing she’d acted upon feelings she shouldn’t have.

So wrapped up in her head, Kirumi doesn’t realize Kiyo has been calling her until an arm wraps around her shoulder. Shivers run down her spine as he whispers in her ear. “What has you so stricken my dear? There’s no need to apologize, afterall we both enjoyed ourselves, no?”

Her face burns hotter. “W-well, a maid of my caliber should never do such a thing with….” He turns her to face him and only now is she struck by how odd it is to see him without his mask, lipstick smudges painting his face. 

“Now now, you are only human and you couldn’t control the reactions of your body. If you would like we can put this whole thing behind us,” His hand moves up to brush at her hair, “Or, if you’d like, we can pursue something more… fulfilling.”

Kirumi, ever mature, lifts her chin. “I hope you’re not suggesting we do something like this again.” His head tilts before he chuckles, eyes narrowing as his cheeks push up in a smile. She’s struck again by how beautiful he is. 

“I didn’t mean that, dear. Kirumi,” She stiffens at the use of her first name as his arms rest on her shoulders and he leans in close to her, noses almost touching. “I find you intriguing and admire the many facets of your personality. What I’ve been shown today is no exception, however I would deeply appreciate having the pleasure to get to know you under different circumstances. Would you do me the honor of agreeing to pursue something more with our relationship? Grant me access to parts of yourself that nobody else can see?”

Being put on the spot, her hands itch for her gloves as she freezes. “I…” She hesitates, knowing she’d indeed appreciate such a prospect. “Shin-- Korekiyo, if you’d have me, I… suppose so. Yes.” The last word is stated firmly as though assuring herself of her decision. A delighted grin lights up his face and he takes her chin, triumphantly claiming her lips in a kiss.

Startled, she grabs his arm while his free one snakes around her waist. After a few seconds her eyes drift shut and she returns the affection, leaning into it. It’s charged like their touches of before, sending sparks through her nerves, but not as desperate. The pair reluctantly part.

“We need to clean up before anything else.” She breaks the silence. At her words his eyes twinkle with mirth.

“Ever the dutiful worker, Miss Kirumi. I do so love that about you.”

“Thank you. Now, about your rope.” Kirumi holds up her hands expectantly, ignoring his usage of the word “love.” He chuckles and does as she silently commands, freeing her wrists which have only grown more irritated and angry in color. She rubs the delicate skin, wincing at the burning pain.

Kiyo takes her hand and presses a kiss against her wrist. While it doesn’t magically heal her wounds it does earn a slight flutter in her chest. “I have a cream that will help with these.” She doesn’t need to ask why.

Instead she bends down and begins searching for her underwear, suddenly very aware of how uncomfortable it is without it. There’s a chuckle. “Were you looking for this?” He holds up what she was looking for. 

Thoroughly done with blushing she leans over and snatches it from his fingers before he can play keep away or tease her. “Yes, thank you.” Exhaustion setting in cuts her words and patience short. The material is mostly dry and heat has all but been extinguished from her body, making it more comfortable to wear. Her tights are returned to their rightful place under her Hope’s Peak uniform skirt and as she turns to grab her gloves he stops her.

“Kehehe... allow me.” With that he begins to button up her shirt, eyes appraising her marked skin as his now bandaged fingers slowly complete their task. Kirumi only raises an eyebrow at his creeping smirk. 

“Are you quite finished?” Her voice is flat as she speaks.

“So cold, my dear. Is that any way to treat your new partner?” She tugs on her gloves, upright back turned towards him.

“I do believe you’re the one that enjoys every facet of my personality. This shouldn’t come as a surprise.” Mild guilt is pushed away, her snippy mood accentuated by the irritation that springs forth at his teasing tone.

When she turns back around, a bandaged finger boops her nose as an arm wraps around her back, trapping her against him. “Someone is cranky because they didn’t get to bask in their afterglow.” Despite his mask being returned to its rightful place she _knows_ he’s sporting a teasingly smug smile. 

Kirumi pouts slightly, turning her head away and her nose up. “I’m feeling perfectly fine, thank you.” Though she makes no move to pull away from him. 

“Well considering we have nowhere to be,” She opens her mouth to disagree but he shushes her with a finger to her lips. “And no way to leave, lets rest, yes?” It’s phrased as a question but he all but drags her down to rest in his arms against the bean bags. Kirumi doesn’t bother protesting, knowing the door is in fact locked and that she can’t leave to class even if she tries. 

Instead, she entwines their fingers and tucks her head under his chin, breathing slowing as he combs his fingers through her hair. The two drift off to sleep in a matter of minutes.

…

“Get back you damn brats! I have to find the right key….” Kuma-sensei once again crouches over his key ring, fumbling while trying to fend off the herd of eager and rowdy children.

“Hurry up! The gorgeous girl genius wants to see how badly they totally trashed the room when they fucked like a bunch of filthy animals! You all saw how close we were to getting some amateur porno nasty shit in the classroom. Hah-hahaha!” 

“Move it you filthy whore! If anyone’s gonna see them it’s gonna be me, their darling son.” 

“Guys, I really think we should give them some privacy!” 

The poor teacher unlocks the door finally and turns the handle, trying to crack the door open first to ensure the scene wasn’t something he could get fired for. The group of teens all but bulldozes him out of the way, flooding through the door only to come to a screeching stop at the sight of the two most intimidating, mature students in their class fully dressed and dozing together in the corner of the room on a beanbag, a box of unopened condoms haphazardly lying next to them as though forgotten entirely.

“Motherfucker.” At that Kiyo’s eyes flutter open as he groggily sits up, holding a sleeping Kirumi against his chest.

“You called?”

**Author's Note:**

> I know you're all dying of thirst cause this tag is as dry as Kiyo's humor so here. Take it even if some of you don't deserve it.  
> Thanks to deltanox for editing! You were the most tolerable during this shit show of a writing fest, I guess. The poor asexuals in me and her died and were then resurrected during this, so you all better appreciate.


End file.
